by Amy Jarecki
Robbie raced toward them with Lachlan right behind. “Ye didna even have to fight.”
“Dunna speak ill of the dead. We may have killed the English, but this was no victory.” William inclined his head toward the horses. “Go saddle my mount and tell Father Blair to march the men to Ellerslie. I’ll meet ye there on the morrow.”
“Will there be another fight?” Lachlan asked.
Wallace regarded the dirty-faced lad. “As sure as ye’re breathing, there will be battles to come, and we’ll nay stop until we drive Longshanks from Scotland for good.”
After the boys sped away, Eva’s footing became surer. “I’m not going back to Fail.”
“I’m not taking ye there.”
Chapter Twenty-One
For the second time, William didn’t ask Eva ride to behind him. He cradled her across his powerful thighs, his arms encircling her waist as he held the reins. She closed her eyes against the trembling. She’d asked for this—asked to witness it all. Not once did she think it would be like going to the state fair or the movies. But seeing footage of war-torn countries on the big screen was a far cry from watching it in person.
How could she remain impartial? How could she have stood on the hill listening to the pleading shrieks of the dying? Even the livestock inside brayed with unconscionable fear and pain. The horse hooves kicking the walls were unmistakable. Eva even had wished more for the animals to break free than the men.
When William had walked toward her, it crossed her mind to run, but she couldn’t force her feet to move. All she could think of was the strength of his arms when they surrounded her. The inexplicable bond they’d made—her driving, ever present need to be a part of this—to share his life.
God damn it, she needed his touch more now than ever. The warmth of the arms formed a protective barrier shielding her from the ugliness of the world.
“Why didn’t you open the doors?” she asked in a whisper.
“Open them just to cut the men down as they ran?” A tic twitched in his jaw.
She nodded. She’d seen it all. By the time William and his men reached the barns, the flames leapt from the thatched roofs and through the gaps in the wooden walls. Even standing on the hill, the blaze burned so hot, it warmed her face.
He pressed gentle lips to her temple. “We’ll not speak of it again.”
She only nodded. Closing her eyes, she tried to force the horror to the back of her mind—tried to compartmentalize it so she wouldn’t break down. This was a time of cold brutality. Only the strongest could survive it and she had no intension of wilting like a sniveling weakling. She’d risen above her share of hard knocks. Now was no time to sink back down into the doldrums.
With her resolution, she pushed up her sleeves and examined the raw skin, irritated by the habit’s coarse wool.
“Ssss,” William hissed. “What happened there?”
“Rope burn, compliments of Sir Douglas.” She blew on the sting.
That jaw tic twitched more prominently this time. “I could kill him for that.”
She brushed her fingers across his beard. “I know you can, but you’re a better man than he is.”
“Mayhap ye give me too much credit.” He let out a wry chuckle and kissed her again. “Ye’re a wise woman. Perhaps that’s why I canna stop thinking about ye.”
Sighing, Eva relaxed against him. Heaven help her, she’d never be able to stay mad at him. Wallace was running just like her. Confused and angry, maybe even more than Eva. She’d been running from her tragedy in New York and William blocked the gruesome memories of his every battle. No wonder neither one of them could sleep.
Together they rode for miles, not saying a word. William relaxed the reins and let the horse amble until they wove through deep wood and stopped on the bank of a river. The rush filled her ears with the sound of water babbling over boulders and skimming the bottom limbs of trees.
“Where are we?” Eva asked.
“The River Irvine.”
The musical flow of the water helped to calm her inner turmoil. “Near Loudoun Hill?”
“Aye, though nearer Kilmarnock.” He helped her slide down, then dismounted. “Are ye hungry?”
She should be. Now away from the warmth of his chest, she shivered and shook her head. Stepping in, she smoothed her hands around his waist. “I don’t want to let go of you.”
He raised her chin with the crook of his finger. Lips parted, his gaze met hers with an electric pull. “I’ve tried to walk away from ye, but every time ye’ve fought me.”
Eva swallowed back a lump forming in her throat. “I know.”
“And now ye’ve seen me at my worst, yet ye havena fled.”
“But it was Sir Douglas who…” They’d agreed not to talk about it. Eva’s breath became shallow as she kneaded her fingertips into the back of his exposed neck. “I want to be with you so badly, I cannot bear the thought of walking away. Not now.”
“And I can no longer turn ye out.” He cupped her face between his palms. “Ye are in my blood. My every heartbeat thrums for ye.”
Eva’s mouth went dry and she focused on the rugged lines of his face, refusing to allow her mind to wander.
He brushed his fingers along her jaw. “Why do ye want to stay with me when ye ken we cannot marry?”
“Does it matter?” Her face reflected in his fathomless, crystal-blue eyes while she dug deep for her answer. “Our souls are one. I want to be with you.”
Intense, his gaze dipped to her mouth. “And I with ye.”
“Then why worry about what the future holds? Love me for today. Love me like you may never have the chance again.” Eva refused to consider the future and thinking about the past brought too much pain. “The only time we have is the now.”
His eyes dipped to her mouth and he moistened his lips. “The now,” he whispered. Sliding his hands to her neck, he crushed his mouth over hers possessively, as if the pressure of the day’s events surged through him with a burst of passion.
“I need to feel the warmth of your flesh against my skin.” He tugged up his hauberk. “Help me take this off.”
He kneeled and Eva hefted the heavy mail over his head and placed it on the grass. The electric current that always connected their souls shot between their heated stares. Taking his hands, she pulled him into her arms.
Moving her fingers up his spine, Eva clung to William as if she needed his touch to breathe. His mouth fused to hers, exploring with the same fervent hunger that thrummed under her skin. Never in her life had she been so spellbound by a man. Her body on fire, she drew her fingers to his waistband, groped for the ties and spread open his chausses.
He fumbled with the rope tie on her habit, but when it released, he pushed the garment from her shoulders and cast it aside. Eva couldn’t get to him fast enough. So many layers—the arming doublet, the linen shirt, the braies. With every piece of his clothing, he removed one of hers.
Urgency demanded they move quickly, but still Eva’s fingers fumbled with her mounting desire. When finally the breeze caressed her bare skin, she rubbed her body against his hard. Bliss sent tingles skittering along the goosebumps on her skin. She ran her fingers through the fine hair in the center of his chest. “Beautiful.”
“Ah, lassie. Ye are bonnier than any woman in all of Ayrshire. Just looking at ye stirs a maelstrom of passion in my blood.”
With a wink, he turned and untied a blanket from behind his saddle, showing her the most powerful masculine back she’d ever had the pleasure of gazing upon. A back that would fight for freedom—a back that could carry the weight of a nation.
Eva’s heart sped. His perfectly chiseled derriere rounded down to long powerful thighs, peppered with auburn curls. Heat seared deep inside with a longing so intense, her thighs shuddered. Stepping to him, she smoothed her hands over his rock-hard buttocks and circled her fingers inside his cleft, lightly brushing his scrotum.
“Mm,” he growled, leaning into her. “If ye keep doing that
I’ll follow ye anywhere.”
Chucking, she pushed her hand further and cupped him. “I like that.”
“Come with me.” Turning, he took her hand and led her to a patch of moss. “There’s no better bed in the wild—if ye dunna mind a wee bit of damp.”
“I remember,” she chuckled.
After he’d spread the blanket, he drew her into his embrace. “I ken I shouldna allow myself to feel so strongly about anyone, but merely breathing in your scent has me transfixed. How can ye possess me so?”
“I have no idea.” She closed her eyes and focused on the now. Being near him filled her with life. “I’ve said it before and believe me when I swear there is no one I’d rather be with than you.”
Leaning in for a languid kiss, he lifted Eva and reclined on the blanket. “Are ye cold, lass?”
She shivered. “Not when my body is pressed to yours.”
“Mm. I’ve enough heat for the both of us.”
A seductive chuckle rumbled from her throat. “You can keep talking to me with that deep Scottish burr all day.” Pushing him down to the blanket, she straddled his robust hips and rubbed her slick core up and down along the length of his erection.
His big hands plied her thighs, until his thumb snuck up and slid over her. “I want ye too much.”
She wouldn’t last long either. Not this time. Maybe not ever with this man. The hunger sizzling deep inside her core burned so hot, she might come with one more brush of his thumb. Raising her hips, she caught the tip of his cock and took him inside, just far enough.
His breath caught. So did hers. She held very still while her body gradually adjusted to his size. Then staring into his glassy eyes, she slid down his length. Supporting herself with her hands, she watched his face as the spike of arousal escalated to an urgent frenzy.
A current stronger than the pull of electricity connected their souls as their bodies moved in perfect tandem.
A cry caught in her throat. She closed her eyes.
“Look at me,” William growled, drawing her back into the power of their bond. He sank his fingers into her bottom, demanding more.
The pressure mounted, driving Eva toward glorious release. Thrusting faster, a bead of sweat rolled down from her temple as, all at once, she cried out as her inner core burst into euphoric splendor.
Still holding on to her hips, William drove harder until his entire body shuddered with his muffled growl of pleasure. Eva collapsed atop his chest, sighing with every deep breath.
She lay atop him while their breathing gradually returned to normal. In this moment, William Wallace, leader of the resistance, the greatest legend Scotland had ever known, was hers alone. There were no rebels lingering outside an alcove, no nosy priests accusing her of being a loose woman, no Sir Douglas making lewd remarks. Right now, Eva held her William in her arms, bound as man and woman, savoring every blessed second.
“Thank you for not forcing me away,” she whispered.
“I didna want to let ye go.”
She rolled to her side. “Then why did you?”
“I’ve said it afore—a man hell-bent on rebellion has no business loving a woman.” William pulled the blanket over her back.
She swirled her fingers over his chest. “Even if she’s willing to live with the consequences?”
“Even then—but dunna take me wrong. It tore my heart to shreds when I left ye at the monastery. I told myself I’d never see ye again. ’Twas the blackest day of my miserable life.”
She nestled her head under his chin. “Never abandon me again.”
“I’ll not on one condition.”
“Aye?”
“Ye listen to me when I tell ye to stay put.”
“I can do that, as long as I know you’re coming back.”
He smoothed his hand over her hair. “Aye, lass. I give ye my word.”
Eva closed her eyes and relaxed into his comforting arms. Exactly where she wanted to be, she blocked her mind from thinking about anything but William. In the past year she’d become adept at compartmentalizing her thoughts, and if it was therapy she needed, she’d found it right there in the arms of William Wallace.
“Eva?” he asked.
“Yes?”
“Will ye promise me something?”
She inhaled his scent—delicious spice and danger. “Anything.”
“When I ask ye for the truth, ye will give it willingly.”
She’d only ever wanted to be forthright. “I’ve shown this to you before.” Reaching down, she grasped the medallion and held it up. “If ever I had a motto, this is it.”
He read the inscription on both sides. “Ye said a wise man gave this to ye?”
“A man who believed I would find you and discover the truth.”
“Have ye been disappointed?” William ran his thumb over the smooth bronze.
“No, on the contrary. I’ve experienced more…more stirring of my blood than at any time in my life. I must say, I’m not ready to go back.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “’Tis good, ’cause I am not ready to have ye leave.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The sun rose all too soon, even for William. Though anxious to rejoin his men, he couldn’t deny how much he needed this time away. And the woman cradled between his thighs, sharing his horse, had an uncanny way of soothing the horrors he’d witnessed—if only for a little while.
Over and over he would relive every murder he’d seen, and every man he’d fought, until the day he died. William envied those who tilled the soil and raised bairns. Their lives must be rich and unfettered as God had meant for men to live, knowing their seed would continue through generations. But the Lord had made Wallace a warrior. Unimaginable, gruesome death lurked in the recesses of his mind, soothed ever so lovingly by Miss Eva’s gentle touch.
Sure, John Blair would have something cheeky to say about William’s absence, but Willy hadn’t taken a vow of chastity. And now he knew he’d never be able to walk away from Eva. She’d taken a great risk to wake him in Ayr. He wouldn’t abandon her again.
He couldn’t deny that leaving her at the monastery had torn what remained of his heart to shreds. How in God’s name had he become so attached to the lass in such a short period of time? But these are fast and furious days. Life is short, brutal, fleeting. That she possessed gifts not of this world was certain, but William had seen enough to decide for himself that she, indeed, had a good heart. The final thread of proof came in Ayr. If she was a vassal of King Edward, she would have alerted the English in the barns rather than seek him out.
Eva rested her head against his chest. “Thank you for taking me to your hideaway. I wish we could have stayed there for a sennight.”
“Me as well.” William released a rumbling sigh. “If only I weren’t embroiled in this revolution.”
“But you are.”
“Aye.” Bloody oath, when the news of Ayr came to light, the price on his head would increase tenfold.
“Where was your father raised? On the croft in Ellerslie?”
“Nay.” William ran his reins through his fingers. “Da was the youngest son of Sir Adam Wallace of Riccarton.”
“Isn’t that near Kilmarnock?”
“Aye. And we slept on Riccarton lands last eve.”
She inclined her face up toward him and met his gaze. “So then we’re near Ellerslie?”
William’s heart swelled—he could gaze on that lovely face all day. “A mile or so.” He pointed with his thumb. “Ellerslie is part of the family estate.”
“Wow, I wouldn’t have guessed.” She tapped her delectable lips with her pointer finger. “Am I correct in assuming though your father was a tenant farmer, he was prosperous?”
“Wallaces always prosper.” He nuzzled into her fragrant tresses. “My da was renowned for raising the tastiest beef in all Ayrshire. Not to mention the finest Galloway ponies.”
“That is impressive.” Eva swirled her fingers on the outside of his thig
h. Somehow she always knew exactly where to touch him. “Is everyone in your family tall?”
“Da was close, but no others. I dunna ken why I’m so much taller than everyone else. Ma always said ’tis on account of the marrow.”
“Marrow?”
“I always sucked the marrow from the bones when I was a lad. ’Twas my favorite part.”
Eva’s mouth twisted. “Sounds awful.”
“Mayhap to ye.” He glanced down at her fingers still swirling. “But if ye keep touching me like that, we’ll never make it to Kilmarnock.”
“Sorry.” She drew her hand away.
William chuckled. “I’m not sorry in the slightest.”
With a playful whack, she giggled.
They rode for a time when her dancing fingers next tickled the back of his hand. “How did you learn to read and write?”
Though the soft strokes on his hand were nice, he preferred to have her stroking his thigh. “Ma made certain of that. Said regardless if we were the sons of a crofter, we would fare better in life if we could read and write in Scots, French and Latin.”
“What’s your favorite?”
He thought for a moment. “Aside from my native tongue, I rather like Latin. ’Tis the foundation for so many languages. After I left home, I went to study with my uncle in Dundee.”
“Why so far away? Why not Paisley Abbey or Fail Monastery?”
“Och, ye are full of questions this day.” William chuckled. “One of my uncles is a priest. He introduced me to Bishop Wishart, who encouraged me to study at Dunipace to be a Templar knight. A monk named MacRae who’d fought in the Holy Land with the Order of the Knights Templar taught me everything about war. But he trained knights of God to fight for Christendom. I once had dreams of traveling to the Holy Land and fighting for the church.”
“And here you are fighting for your country.”
“I reckon God wanted me to remain in Scotland.”
“So you left the order and took up your sword?”
“Aye, I suppose ye could put it like that.” William again ran the reins’ soft leather through his fingers. But he’d had enough talk about his life. So much of Eva’s was still a mystery. “Is anything ye told me about your past true?”
